


Me Gustas

by ComposerofDiscord



Category: Justice League: Gods and Monsters (2015)
Genre: M/M, Mild Cursing, Mutual Pining, What do you mean New Year passed?, Written for New Years, guys I've been in a writer's slump, please let me have these dumb jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 06:56:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17934992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComposerofDiscord/pseuds/ComposerofDiscord
Summary: After a couple of years of turning Hernan's invitations down, Hernan won't take 'no' for an answer this time as he drags Kirk to a New Year's Eve party. Kirk doesn't want to be there, but for reasons unknown to Hernan.





	Me Gustas

“Carajo! We’re going to be late.”

“We’ll be fine.”

“You’re not even dressed!”

“I’m not going.”

A hand slammed against his desk. Kirk didn’t even flinch. After listening to Hernan making a racket all day, a pounding against his desk was the least frightening of clanging noises.

“You are going.” Hernan fumed.

Kirk imagined Hernan’s blue eyes were the shade of a dark typhoon threatening to shoot lightening at him or set his papers ablaze. Still, Kirk remained as an immovable levy against the storm.

“I have nothing to wear.”

The storm eased as Hernan straightened with a playful curl to his lips. “I’ve taken care of it.”

“You bought me a suit?” Red eyes finally strayed from their work and Hernan’s smile grew.

“And a tie.”

Kirk reverted his attention to his work once more. “Thank you, but I have enough to do here. Why don’t you take Bekka?”

When Hernan didn’t immediately respond, Kirk expected Hernan to give in. This kind of play between them has become routine recently. Hernan would throw a fit such as this – making a racket by stomping around and slamming drawers – he would then tell Kirk to come with him, and Kirk would turn him down with excuses of work. Hernan would act mad or disappointed but would leave him be and ask Bekka instead.

Suddenly, Kirk felt a pair of strong hands grab him and before he knew it, he found himself thrown over Hernan’s shoulder like some sack of potatoes.

“H-Hernan!” This was not part of the script. “Hernan, put me down!”

Kirk felt a growl threatening to rumble the back of his throat as he caught the edge of the doorframe, but Kirk might as well have grasped air for Hernan never lost momentum. He simply charged on, and Kirk was forced to let go.

“You skipped out last year, you’re not skipping it again this year.”

“Nobody missed me.”

The door to Kirk’s room slid open, and Kirk was tossed onto the bed. The moment his back hit the mattress, a growl clawed up his throat as his upper lip furled back to reveal menacingly, long fangs.

Hernan didn’t bat an eye.

“ _I_ missed you.” Hernan pointed down to the suit laid out on the bed beside Kirk. “Change, now.”

He left the room to give Kirk privacy.

_‘I missed you.’_ Kirk remained on the bed motionless as allowed those words to sink in. _‘Ridiculous.’_

Kirk blew it off as an over exaggeration, yet part of him fluttered at the words all the same.

The truly ridiculous person was him. Kirk could be considered smart, even a genius, when it came to math and science. But with everything else, he felt the odds stacked against him.

There were rules – orders, with numbers. There were trends and theories that couldn’t be broken in the way the world spins, but when it came to matters of the heart: love was lawless.

Love…

Kirk wanted to laugh or cry, or perhaps both. Restless by his own foolish thoughts, he sat up from his bed and looked over at the suit Hernan had laid out.

It was black with a tail coat, and a silk white vest fastened by silver buttons. Feeling the smooth material beneath his fingertips, it would undoubtedly be the most expensive thing he has ever worn.

Hernan shouldn’t have. Hernan always did like to splurge a little on clothing, but Hernan should know Kirk would either never wear it or wear it just this once. It was a waste, but Hernan had done it anyway. He did it for him.

_‘Dammit.’_

Reluctantly, Kirk put on the three-piece suit.

It fit him perfectly. From the length of his pants, to width of the jacket’s shoulders, the dimensions were spot on as if it were tailored specifically for him.

“I hope you’re dressed.” The door opened, and Hernan walked in wearing a very similar suit except the buttons were gold. His too fit like a glove, and complimented as well as accentuated his long legs, narrow hips, and broad shoulders.

Where Kirk felt like his suit was a costume, Hernan only looked natural in his.

Hernan’s smile was bright when he saw Kirk in the suit. “You look great. You just need your tie.”

Hernan found it still lying on the bed. Kirk didn’t know how to tie it, having never worn a bowtie, but Hernan seamlessly wrapped it around his neck and tied it into a neat bow. The bow was black satin, and stood out against Kirk’s collared shirt.

“There now we look like a couple of pinguinos.”

“A couple of what?”

“I couldn’t think of the English word for it so that’s what it’s going to be.” Hernan said quickly as though if he said it fast enough, Kirk wouldn’t catch his embarrassment.

“Hm, I don’t think that word is in here.” Kirk had a pocket-sized Spanish phrasebook and dictionary, but the dictionary section was limited. It was really a travel book, made for tourists to be able to navigate through foreign countries. Nonetheless, Hernan took great interest when Kirk brought it out.

“You’re learning Spanish?”

There was look of wonder followed by a softness in Hernan’s blue eyes. The frantic typhon that once clouded Hernan’s features was gone. Kirk kept his gaze down at the book. The storm might have been gone, but Hernan could still sweep him away.

“It’s for communication purposes.” Kirk shrugged it off. “For when you go into one of your rants.”

“I see.” Hernan’s mood didn’t deter from Kirk’s feigned indifference. “If that’s the case, you’re gonna need a much larger dictionary than that.”

Despite himself, Kirk let out an unsightly snort only Hernan could make him do.

_‘Damn him.’_

“C’mon, compadre, we’ve got a party to catch.”

Not a moment too soon, did Kirk find himself at the dreaded party. The party was held in some wealthy Metropolian’s penthouse overlooking the large clocktower for when it struck midnight. Crystal chandeliers hung above them, a jazz band played in the back of the room, and waiters formally dressed in bowties, carried trays of bubbling champagne and finger sized hors d’oeuvres.

Kirk didn’t know anybody save for Hernan, and a couple of politicians he couldn’t remember liking or not. Politics wasn’t his forte. That was more of Hernan’s territory as Hernan was able to shake hands with those who approached, and share some pleasantries, but Kirk knew Hernan liked small talk just as much as him which was not at all.

Luckily there seemed to be more than one person eagerly vying for Hernan’s attention that the conversations were brief. Then finally, a familiar face emerged from the menagerie. She wore a form fitting black dress with a deep V-neck and a slit up the side. An intricate gold belt was cinched around her waist helping to show off her hourglass figure.

“Well, don’t you two look like a pair of penguins,” Bekka teased only for Hernan’s smile to immediately drop.

“Excuse me, I think I see something over there.” Hernan abruptly excused himself.

“What’s up with him?”

“Pinguinos.” Kirk couldn’t help but laugh a little at the realization too.

Bekka clearly didn’t understand what shared inside joke Kirk had with Hernan, but she easily brushed it off. It was something she was used to, and honestly, she found Hernan’s swift retreat to sulk somewhere quite amusing as well.

“I didn’t think you’d make it,” Bekka said over the music. She grabbed two flutes of champagne for the both of them and offered one to Kirk. Kirk had no desire of drinking it, but he took it from her nonetheless.

“It was not by my choosing.”

“Oh I’m sure.” Bekka offered a sympathetic smile. “Although I think Hernan is happier now that you’re here.”

“Why’s that?”

“Doesn’t he ask you to go every year?”

Hernan did, for the past two years, but Kirk had turned him down. He went once, and that was enough for him. He didn’t want to come back here for reasons surely unknown to both Hernan and Bekka, but by the upward curl of Bekka’s lips, there was something she knew that Kirk clearly didn’t.

She was the picture of a cat before spilled milk, pleased with the turn of events as she gave him a kind squeeze to his arm. “Have fun tonight, Kirk. It’s almost a new year.”

“Thank you, Bekka.” Kirk returned her smile. “Happy New Year’s Eve.”

She left him to return to her date. Her arm looped around none other than Steve Trevor, and Kirk wasn’t really sure what to make of the two. He knew Hernan didn’t like him, but if Bekka was happy then Kirk was happy for her.

He looked around the room to see where Hernan’s _tactical_ retreat might have landed him, only to find him on the opposite side of the room with a woman Kirk didn’t know. She leaned against the wall rather close to Hernan, and her look wasn’t one that was hard to decipher.

Kirk looked away.

He remembered why he didn’t want to come to these things. It wasn’t that Hernan was hit on by various women. Kirk was used to that on other occasions. It was a particular tradition of New Year’s that made him uncomfortable.

When the clock struck midnight, marking a new year, it was customary to kiss someone whether it was a new-found attraction, or someone you wished to keep into the New Year. The one time they went as a trio, Bekka had pulled Steve into a kiss, and Hernan had kissed someone Kirk didn’t know.

The sight of it startled an ache that weighed heavy within his chest. He never knew of its existence until that moment, where something wanted to burst out from within the confines of his ribcage, but he swallowed it down. It was a shadow of desperation followed by a great tide of shame to feel remotely desperate. And so, he had held his chest to keep whatever it was locked in place.

Another year by Hernan’s side passed, and Kirk couldn’t lie to himself any longer. He knew the name for what he felt. Some nights, knowing the name of it warmed him. Other nights it was a curse. Tonight, it was agony.  

Kirk unthinkingly drowned the entire glass of champagne, but even the feeling of carbonated bubbles in his chest didn’t distract him from what else was in there. It was like spraying air fresher to cover an existing odor, but rather than the unpleasant scent going away it smelled like flowers and shit.

God, did he not want to be there.

Kirk was just about ready to make his own retreat out the door when a warm hand reached for his own.

“Bailamos; dance with me.” Hernan had pulled Kirk to the designated dance floor with him. When they reached it, Hernan had let go. Kirk wished he didn’t. He didn’t know what Hernan was up to, but simply going along with Hernan’s antics was much easier than what Hernan did next.

He extended his hand properly this time in a silent request for Kirk to take it. Kirk hesitated.

He couldn’t be serious. Not only would everyone be looking at them, but clearly Hernan should know what they would be thinking when they _did_ look at them: they must be really good friends.

Kirk internally kicked himself for that poor joke or maybe it wasn’t a joke at all.

“Kirk?” Hernan spoke up, derailing Kirk’s tumultuous train of thought.

Kirk looked up at Hernan, and there again was a softness in those blue eyes. There wasn’t a teasing smirk playing across his lips, nor a mirthful glint in eye. His hand still stayed outstretched between them. All Kirk needed to do was take it.

Fine, Kirk thought. It was Hernan’s fault if people took it the wrong way.

He took Hernan’s hand, and Hernan drew Kirk to him in a fluid motion as if it were the most natural thing. His other hand rested against the middle of his back, and Kirk carefully moved to place his hand on Hernan’s shoulder.

Then slowly they swayed. Hernan took the lead, and Kirk followed his careful footing. Kirk was sure he had stepped on Hernan’s foot at least once, but Hernan never showed it, unless Hernan’s growing smile was his quiet admission.

All the while, Hernan’s eyes never left his, and Kirk couldn’t bring himself to look away. Hernan’s blue eyes held him warmly as did his hand in his. He could feel the warmth seep through his clothes, into his skin, coiling around him like a hungry boa.

Then suddenly Hernan had leaned down for the kill. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Kirk’s survival instincts kicked in. He quickly disengaged and backed away from the dance floor – away from Hernan.

“I-I’m sorry… I’ve got to go.” Was what Kirk hoped he said. He wasn’t quite sure what he had spewed in front of Hernan. He had fumbled over his words as his mind scrambled. The only thought anchoring him to the present plane of existence was _‘escape’_.

Kirk easily slipped through past several people out to the nearest exit: the balcony. Without thinking, Kirk climbed up onto the railing and jumped.

He didn’t jump off the building – he wasn’t that far gone. Rather he leapt up to where his fingers caught a groove in the building’s architecture. It might not have been Gotham’s gothic spires, but it would do. He was still able to find enough ledges to jump up and climb until he reached the top of the building’s needle.

His fingers gripped the metal structure but he didn’t reach to go any higher. He could. He could continue to climb, he could even fly if he wanted to, but his flight response had suddenly been upended by guilt.

How could he be so stupid?

Kirk sank to his knees in a pitiful heap. Why? Why was he running away? He should have wanted Hernan to tell him he made him happy, or to even dance with him, but he had burst his own bubble. His fears had corrupted his own dream – but maybe Kirk was right. Maybe Hernan didn’t mean it that way, yet the way Hernan held him made Kirk want to believe there was something there.

Now… with Kirk up here and Hernan down there, Kirk would never know. Why would Hernan want to speak to him after this?

He wouldn’t – he couldn’t, though Kirk wished he did. He knew the words he’d say to him. He had said them in his head and in his heart over and over again, but when he opened his mouth, nothing came.

Pitiful. He was utterly hopeless.

He sat down on the ledge, cradling his knees. The feeling of the smooth fabric brought upon another wave of guilt. The suit Hernan bought for him was most likely ruined. He really was the worst.

Kirk couldn’t say how much time had went by, or why he hadn’t left his perch. He could still hear the buzz of the party vaguely in the back of his mind, as well as see the clocktower’s hands slowly moving to midnight. He felt with every slow tick of the minute hand, did his mind move. It seemed his flight earlier had exhausted him, and all he could do at that moment was sit idly and imagine he had not just made a complete fool of himself.

“60!”

Kirk heard from the party.

“59!”

They were counting down. There was less than a minute to midnight and Kirk couldn’t help but scoff. What a way to end a year.

“Kirk?”

Kirk froze. No. Impossible. He wasn’t supposed to be here. What was he doing here?

“Kirk.” Hernan repeated in a firmer tone as he flew into Kirk’s line of sight. He wouldn’t let Kirk look away from him. Not now.

The storm was back in the blue of his eyes, and Kirk could see he was breathing hard for his breaths came out in clouded puffs in the winter air between them.

“What are you doing up here?” Hernan fumed.

“I…” Kirk couldn’t honestly answer.

“I-I don’t understand.” Hernan ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “I keep trying to plan these things. I keep asking you to join me or to go out with me and set up something that’s romantic so I can tell you I like you, but how can I if I as soon as I try anything – you climb up the nearest building?!”

“You.. you like me?”

“And god forbid I try to do it in more subtle ways like bumping into you more often, or offering my jacket even when I know you’re not cold, or getting you small things that reminded me of you. And! And… Oh, I could smack you with a sign that says: ‘I like you, you idiot’, and you’d still not get it.

“And despite all that, I still want to be with you, because when I am, I just… I forget about all the times when we’re not together, and I’m happy – you make me happy, but you also frustrate me to no goddamn end! And Jesus, why did you think I—”

Hernan was firmly tugged forward by the lapel of his suit, and he was silenced by a pair of cool lips meeting his. He immediately melted.

The clock chimed midnight, and those at the party, as well as the crowd gathered around the clocktower cheered. However, neither Kirk nor Hernan heard it. Everything seemed to melt away and all Hernan could hear was the rapid pounding of Kirk’s heart. All he could feel were cool hands coming to frame his face, and lips he had dreamed of kissing for years.

_‘Finally,’_ They both thought, _‘Finally.’_

Kirk was the first to break away, but he didn’t go very far. Hernan could still feel his breath against his cheek, sending a shiver down his spine. Red eyes, barely open, peered down at Hernan who had at some point closed his eyes.

He looked vulnerable at that moment. He was completely open and exposed for Kirk to take, should he wish, and he did. He truly did, and yet even seeing him this way, Kirk couldn’t help but ask.

“Are you sure you want me?”

Blue eyes shot open, and dark brows furrowed. “Yes, I want you! Did you not hear me earlier? I want you so—”

Hernan was interrupted by another kiss pressed against his lips, and all complaints died right then and there for he could feel the corners of Kirk’s lips curl upward into a bright smile. He was happy, and Hernan was too.

He took Kirk by the waist, and pulled him off his ledge. Kirk wrapped his arms around his neck, but wasn’t afraid. He knew Hernan wouldn’t drop him as the two floated in midair.

The light from the clocktower illuminated Kirk’s face like the face of a moon, or perhaps that was of Kirk’s own doing for how warmly his eyes had looked at him and the soft curve his lips.

Still, there seemed to flutter inside Kirk a desire to hear Hernan say it again.

“You like me?”

“I like you.” Hernan confirmed.

“You like me.”

Hernan smiled. “In Spanish, when we want to tell someone we like them, we say: te quiero dentro de mi.”

Kirk’s dark brow arched dubiously. “I don’t know what you just said, but I know that’s not how you say it.”

Kirk knew. He had already looked it up in his dictionary, and checked online just to make sure that when/if he ever told Hernan he liked him, he would say it correctly.

“Oh? Then how do you say it?” Hernan leaned to press his forehead against Kirk’s.

Kirk swallowed. “Me gustas, Hernan.”

Hernan kissed him, and Kirk felt years lifted from his shoulders. All this time he had worried, and feared a moment like this could only be a dream but this was real. This moment of holding each other as Hernan’s warm lips pressed against his was real. There was perhaps no science to explain such a phenomenon, but instead of following numbers, he followed his heart.

 The year might have ended poorly, but the new one started in the best way Kirk could imagined. It started with a kiss as he kissed Hernan back.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Could Hernan have kissed Kirk a lot sooner? Sure, but for the purpose of this fic, let’s assume that Hernan’s a stubborn sentimental sap who had everything planned if Kirk hadn’t inadvertently thwarted him every year, and Kirk’s just blind as a bat. Nonetheless, thank you for read if you've gotten down this far. I feel like I've been slamming my head against a wall trying to write for almost 3 months so even if this a ridiculous fic and not my best, it's something and I'm happy for that at least. 
> 
> Thank you again, and happy very belated New Year! 
> 
> P.S. Please feel free to google translate what Hernan said. Thank you to AriesNoHope for the Spanish help, and thanks to SDSlanderson for thinking this fic is okay.


End file.
